Legendary guitar-maker Les Paul left mark in Kalamazoo

Mark Bugnaski | Kalamazoo GazetteMarvin Lamb, Co-founder of Heritage Guitar in Kalamazoo, holds the last Gibson Les Paul solid body guitar made at old Gibson factory at 225 Parsons Street. Lamb, who started working for Gibson in 1956, worked on Les Paul models in the late 1950's. He order the gold-top standard 30th anniversary model Les Paul before they closed the factory September 14, 1984. The Les Paul was also the very last guitar ever made in Gibson factory, and the last serial number stamped. 1814002, meaning, 1984, 181 day of the year, and the second of the two
guitars made that day.

KALAMAZOO
When Gibson Guitar's Parsons Street factory cranked out its last Les Paul guitar, Marvin Lamb had to have it.

Lamb started working for Gibson in 1956, at age 16.

He hand-drilled holes in the tops of early Les Pauls to screw in the stop tailpiece. He installed the first tune-o-matic bridges on the single-cutaway, solid-body guitars.

He sweated at 225 Parsons St., on Kalamazoo's north side, in the late 1960s and early 1970s, when Gibson employees made 200 to 300 Les Pauls a day.

Mark Bugnaski | Kalamazoo GazetteMarvin Lamb, Co-founder of Heritage Guitar in Kalamazoo, also has a 25 year anniversary model of the Gibson Les Paul, 50th year anniversary of Les Paul's music career.

He was there Sept. 14, 1984, the day the factory closed.

Les Paul, the man who pioneered the solid-body electric guitar wielded by a legion of rock 'n' roll greats, died Thursday of complications from pneumonia. He was 94.

Paul died at White Plains Hospital in New York with his family members and friends by his side, according to Gibson, headquartered in Nashville, Tenn.

Lamb remembers meeting Paul. He remembers sitting in development meetings with the legend and a funny story that Paul told during dinner one evening at the Kalamazoo Country Club about Rusty, his son, who, despite the fortune his father had made from the guitar, decided to play the drums.

AP Photo/Richard Drew, FileMusic legends Les Paul, left, and B.B. King, who both play Gibson guitars, put their heads together during a jam session at the third anniversary celebration of the B.B. King Blues Club and Grill in New York's Times Square, in this June 17, 2003 file photo. Paul holds King's signature "Lucille" Gibson guitar, which he played.

On Thursday, Lamb, who helped found Heritage Guitar Co. and still builds guitars inside the Parsons Street factory, admired the craftsmanship of his 1984 Les Paul Goldtop, with serial No. 81814002 -- the last guitar to come out of the Kalamazoo factory -- and remembered the legacy and icon behind its name.

"He didn't seem to put himself above anyone else," Lamb said of Paul. "He was down-to-earth."

A tinkerer and musician since childhood, Paul experimented with guitar amplification for years before coming up in 1941 with what he called "The Log," a 4-by-4 piece of wood strung with steel strings.

For a decade, Gibson, then based in Kalamazoo, pooh-poohed Paul's electronic "broomstick." But competition from Paul's pal, the legendary Leo Fender, finally made Gibson change its tune. The company began marketing the "Les Paul" in 1952, with its creator advising.

"Kalamazoo played a huge part in the development of one of two electric guitar icons," Hembree said during a phone interview from his home in Austin, Texas.

Before Gibson moved its factory to Nashville in 1984, Paul visited Kalamazoo once or twice a year, said Jim Deurloo, a co-founder of Heritage Guitar Co. Deurloo, who started working for Gibson in 1958, remembers grabbing a beer with Paul during his visits and listening to his stories, some of which Deurloo doubted.

Rendal Wall, who worked at Gibson and helped found Heritage, said employees and local musicians would swarm around Paul like "bees to honey" during his visits.
"Everybody wanted his time because he was such an icon and a legend," Wall said. "One thing about Les Paul, he'd always make you laugh. ... He always found a good side of you."

Both Wall and Deurloo met Paul in the 1970s. They said the man always tinkered with the instruments, trying to uncover the next electric-guitar innovation. Wall saw guitars with extra holes cut in the back and microphones sticking out.

Wall last saw Paul a few years ago backstage at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville. By the time Wall got backstage, a crowd had already surrounded the music pioneer. Wall said he hollered, and Paul shoved people out of the way to snap a picture with Wall.

"He said, 'Rendal, haven't we done a lot in life together,'" Wall said, adding that it felt like Paul was speaking to each employee at Gibson. "It was a magic moment. You don't get around him too often."

Bruce Bolen spent a lot of time around Paul. Bolen, the vice president of Nashville operations at Fender Musical Instruments Corp., worked at Gibson from 1967-86 and lived in Kalamazoo from 1979-84.

Paul was about 30 years older than Bolen, but they developed a close friendship, recording music and touring together. Bolen said Paul took him out for an evening on the town one night before Bolen was to play at a New Jersey club. Paul got Bolen "smashed out of my mind." When Bolen went to play the next night, Paul stood in the back of the room, laughing.

"I was virtually green. I had no business being onstage," Bolen said. "He knew I had a hangover from hell."

Bolen said he spoke to Paul often on the phone, rarely for less than an hour. Bolen said Paul was a "night owl" and often called after Bolen went to bed. The two talked about three weeks ago.

"He was always upbeat, but ... he said he was having problems with his heart and his back," Bolen said during a phone interview from his office in Nashville.

Bolen often hung out with Paul when he visited Kalamazoo. The two usually talked about one subject.

"It was nonstop. All he did was talk about guitars and guitar players. Les just loved to share his experiences," Bolen said.

Bolen said he heard of Paul's death Thursday afternoon on the radio.

"I will miss him very, very much. He was a great teacher, and I learned a great deal from him," Bolen said. "We all loved him. I'm sorry to see him go."